


Seeking Guidance

by girlskylark



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Avatar Neil, Bending (Avatar), Earthbending & Earthbenders, Earthbending Andrew, Firebending & Firebenders, Firebending Mafia, Gangs, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Moriyamas - Freeform, Post-Avatar: The Last Airbender, Post-Avatar: The Legend of Korra, Pro-Bending, Training, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 21:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16457717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlskylark/pseuds/girlskylark
Summary: Neil spent all of his life avoiding the responsibilities of being the Avatar, which included learning how to bend. Now that he's on his own, he has to fend for himself and prepare for the inevitable: Facing the Moriyamas and his father. He's as far from Moriyama sympathizers as he could manage, which lands him in the Skypeak Mountains in proximity to an probending training gym run by David Wymack. He can't afford the attention that comes with training under Wymack, so the coach turns him to a trouble case hellbent on ruining the lives of every recruiter that came to his gym for an earthbender.i.e. Neil has to convince Andrew to train him.Inspired by Aymmidumps Avatar AU:D





	Seeking Guidance

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by Aymmidumps Avatar AU](http://girlskylark.tumblr.com/post/179542093030/aymmidumps-i-finished-my-atla-rewatch-and-ofc) :D 
> 
> I started writing this before it was mentioned that Wymack is an airbender (BUT YA KNOW WHAT, I NEVER MENTION HIM BENDING AT ALL SO YA NEVER KNOW WHAT THIS MAN COULD DO)

Neil watching probending whenever he was able. It wasn’t frequently, but it was the only thing he looked forward to in his childhood as he and his mother were on the run. In cities here and there they could only sit still for a day before moving onwards, and so hostel common rooms were Neil’s personal sanctuary. There, he’d sit with the hostel workers and listen to the probending match over the radio speakers. The grainy, expressive announcer voice sent a thrill through him all the way to his toes where he could feel the heat of fire beneath his skin, aching to be released at every mention of his favorite probender. 

Kevin Day was a firebending natural. In those days, he wasn’t in the major leagues, but Neil tracked his progress from the moment he left the Fire Nation. Though, if Kevin Day’s name was spoken in hearing distance from his mother, she’d shut the radio off and drag Neil as far from the conversation as possible. 

He learned from a young age that Kevin Day _and_ firebending were off limits—never to be trusted or attempted. 

There was very little Neil was allowed to attempt, all forms of bending being one of them. This was especially difficult, and more of a hassle for his mother than anything. He learned, though, and having nothing else under his belt aside from fire lessened the responsibility. Controlling his fire was harder than controlling the rest when he hardly even awakened an ounce of it in his chest. 

He knew, though, that it was odd to be so detached from that part of his being. The significant part, that the world asked of him. 

“You don’t owe them anything, especially when it means helping people like _them_ ,” his mother would say, spitting the words at him. He could hear her in the back of his mind, plaguing his thoughts whenever he considered firebending. 

“I wouldn’t help them,” he once told her, but helping the world meant facing them. Neil figured this was what his mother feared most. She spent all of his life protecting him from what fate wanted. Only her, Neil, and Moriyamas’ victims knew the danger ahead, but she, and all the others, made it abundantly clear just how close to the situation they were willing to get. Halfway across the world from it, if they could manage to get there in time.

Neil’s mother made that possible, but now, more than ever, Neil wanted to risk guidance. His mother’s only guidance was to stay hidden and avoid detection, but that was when she was still with him. When she was still alive. 

Now, on his own, he had to learn to fend for himself. If the Moriyamas found him in the state he was in now, he would be powerless. His mother may have kept him hidden, but it was only a matter of time before… He didn’t want to think about it.

With his mother, they landed themselves in the Earth Kingdom, as far from the Moriyamas’ reach as they could manage—though, was there ever _really_ a city untouched by the Moriyamas? Still, this far out, and this close to earthbending professionals, Neil could observe from afar how they used bending.

Many probending leagues were curated by managers in the field, each member of a team handpicked from pockets of elite benders that would work well in a team. Neil’s knowledge of probending, while fascinated with firebending experts, spread to seemingly meaningless details like where probenders originated, and what gyms they were affiliated with before being recruited. 

As Neil crossed his legs and stationed himself on one of the stone pillars outside of the stadium, he pressed his chin to his knee with a sigh. 

_It’d just be easier to go to actual probending matches_ , he thought, but easier meant going out in the open. Easier meant going where the Moriyamas were. This was as close to probending as he’d get in person.

Neil spent weeks at the Skypeak Mountains watching the earthbenders. 

When he wasn’t at the stadium, he was practicing out beyond the valley, and when he wasn’t practicing, he was camped out near a spring fed river. It was too cold for bathing, but it was the only thing he had. He was already risking too much as it was, attempting earthbending, so he couldn’t go into the city. Food was even more difficult to come by, but river trout wasn’t giving him the strength necessary for proper training. 

Two weeks after first arriving at the Skypeak stadium, Neil clutched his cramping stomach, his attention running thin. He couldn’t focus on their training, not when his stomach felt like it was going to shred his esophagus. 

He started to tap his feet impatiently on the stone pillar. He dropped his hands from his stomach to clutch onto the edge of the rock. He cursed himself for wrecking the bow his mother had. Back then, he always thought it was medieval and rudimentary, but now he could appreciate it for how it kept them alive in the wilderness. 

In the midst of thinking longingly of the bow, his attention began to split—one back to his mother, and the other to the sound rising up from the stadium, echoing against the walls of stone. The stadium was sheltered by a crescent-shaped overhanging rock, high above the cracked, stoney stadium seats. It felt more like a theatre, and perhaps it was at one point, but since then it was maintained by the staff and owned by the earthbending trainer Neil saw frequently pacing the sidelines.

He could recognize the voice now, after having spent two weeks in this same spot. It was David Wymack, famous for the slew of reckless earthbenders that could pack a punch in the court, but were more than a little brilliant when it came to starting _actual_ fights. People often applauded the fact that his earthbenders were entertainment, even if the entire sport was founded in the name of “entertainment”. Their dry attitudes and short tempers were part of the reason why Wymack’s recruits were _less than deplorable_ in nature.

Wymack was shouting something, and from the far top of the stadium, Neil came back to himself, aware that he was about to witness one of Wymack’s trainees get the shit beat out of them. One of the benders had a fistful of a trainee’s shirt, and before Wymack could get between them, the earth twisted beneath the bender’s feet and vaulted him upwards in a column of red rock. 

The bender pushed off, twisting back and cutting his hand out towards the column on his descend. Before his feet touched the ground, the column split and a disk rocketed into the stomach of the trainee. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Wymack said, hands in his hair. 

The trainee went down _hard_ , wheezing and clutching a likely bruised rib. Neil didn’t recognize the bender—stocky build and blonde hair, but that was all he could see from this far. He recognized all of the trainees from the past two weeks, and thought he was going mad, not being able to recognize this one. Thankfully, Wymack’s next statement reassured him that he was not, in fact, losing his mind.

“Well, now I remember why I told you to leave in the first place. Maybe you could’ve used a longer break—wait for the next recruiter to come.”

“Vacation doesn’t change anything,” the bender said, crossing his arms. 

Wymack took the guy aside, and despite the ache in his stomach, Neil pushed himself off of the railing pillar and ducked around the columns, trailing along the back of the stadium to get closer to their conversation.

He took the stairs down to the tunnel that cut beneath the stadium seating, and there, he pressed his back to the cold bricks and listened to Wymack’s low voice echo. “I told you—you could really get somewhere if you showed the recruiters an _ounce_ of—”

“Of what? Cooperation? You expect me to put up with the fact that you’re being soft on these idiots—”

“I’m not being soft. If any of you are going to make it out there, you can’t isolate yourselves. Working with the other trainees will—” Wymack said, but stopped. The abruptness of it had Neil raising his head, looking to the stadium floor opening. A long, dark shadow had moved to the opening, and Neil’s stomach twisted, a stab of pain jolting him as he realized he was watching the bender watch him.

Wymack’s figure moved to the opening, and as he came near the bender, the guy shouldered him away and moved out of sight. Neil pushed away from the wall, ready to apologize or _run_ if he had to.

“Wait, kid,” Wymack’s voice sounded, deafening in the tunnel. Neil flinched, stopping midway from turning away. _Flight over fight it is_ , his mind decided, but Wymack’s voice immobilized him.

Neil waited, half turned to Wymack. He eyed Wymack out of the corner of his eye as the man stepped closer. He was built heavier than Neil, all muscle, and he reminded Neil that he wouldn’t survive a fight with someone like Wymack if it came to it. 

Wymack pocketed his hands and looked down at Neil with a curious tilt of his head. He nodded vaguely and said, “I’ve seen you watching practices. You a bender?”

Neil stared back. It took his mind a second to realize that he was supposed to answer. “Yes. Yeah, I can bend,” he said.

“How long have you been bending?”

“Not long. Late bloomer, I guess,” he said, and Wymack chuckled a little. Neil faked a small, innocent smile. 

“What are you looking for here? I don’t have the time for beginners, and watching isn’t the same as being taught,” Wymack said. 

“I can’t afford a mentor,” he lied, and continued to do so, “I learn better by observing anyways.”

Wymack studied him for a moment, and Neil suddenly wished he hadn’t lied. Here was a perfectly find earthbending coach, and Neil just blew his chances of being one of his trainees. Though, Neil couldn’t imagine the cost of it. Even if he had the money for it, he didn’t want to waste it on training when he could teach himself.

Though, his severe lack of earthbending abilities showed that he _couldn’t_ , exactly, train himself.

At this, his stomach protested. He clutched at his stomach as it growled. Wymack looked down and back again before reaching out and clasping Neil by the shoulder. It weighed about as much as a sturdy brick, and shook Neil to the core. 

“Tell you what—let’s get something to eat and have a chat,” he said. 

Thus was how Neil found himself sitting across a table from David Wymack. He took Neil to a small cafe off of the an alley. The windows were all propped open, and on that narrow table, Wymack drummed his hands and sighed. Neil watched as Wymack waved the waiter over and ordered for himself before gesturing to Neil.

Neil stared at him, alarmed, until Wymack said, “It’s on me. Just pick something.”

Neil dropped his eyes to the menu and made sure to keep them away from the waiter’s line of sight. After jotting down their orders, the waiter left, and Neil stole a glance after them before looking to Wymack. He felt like he was going to be sick. His stomach was kicking him for following Wymack out here. He isolated himself for so long that he had no clue who in this region would recognize him. A shudder rippled up his spine.

“Are you expecting someone here?” Wymack asked. Neil turned back to him, eyes sharp. “What are you expecting?”

“Nothing. I wasn’t expecting to be here in the first place,” he said.

“Neither did I, so we have one thing in common. What else is there?” Wymack said. 

The waiter returned with a glass of dark, sour ale for Wymack, and slid a mug to Neil. It steamed on the surface, and as Neil leant forward to smell it, a sweet flavor wafted up. Apple cider.

“What was with the fight?” Neil asked.

“If only I knew,” Wymack said, lifting the glass to his lips. He took a gulp of it before saying, “Andrew doesn’t like—no, _appreciate_ —change. Especially when it comes to catering other people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Considering you’re here, I’m sure you know what happens to most of my trainees,” he said. Neil didn’t say anything, since it seemed obvious enough for Wymack to put together.

“I think it’s good, what you’re doing. At the heart of it, anyways,” Neil said.

“If I can’t effect change, then it’s all for shit. No amount of skill will keep them out of jail if I can’t convince them to change their ways. Or even just prevent them from countless penalties,” Wymack said. He pointed a finger at Neil. “So _that_ is what pisses him off. It’s what other trainers do, not me. He wouldn’t be here if I were any ordinary trainer.”

“What do you mean?”

Wymack offered a noncommittal shrug. Neil turned his head away from the restaurant and out to the streets. As he watched a group of people walk by beneath their awning, Wymack said, “I think he could be one of the greatest earth probenders of his generation.”

“And his inability to cooperate is stopping him,” Neil said. Wymack shot him a look, and Neil mistook it for having crossed a line. “Sorry.”

“So you heard that,” he said.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Horseshit. Well, now that you know, _yes_ , his attitude is more than a little problematic, given the job description,” he said. He rubbed his fingers over his facial hair, across his cheek, and up into his hair. 

_The greatest earth probender_ , Neil’s mind repeated, eagerly. He knew it was a stupid idea, but his mouth was already running. He couldn’t afford the attention that came with Wymack, but Wymack needed _someone’s_ help when it came to Andrew.

“I want him to train me.”

Wymack stared at him, and when Neil’s expression stilled, perfectly serious, Wymack threw his head back and laughed. Neil jumped, startled by the bright, loud laughter. When Wymack sobered up, he took to his ale and drank heavily from it. Neil watched the dark liquid drain until only a drop was left at the bottom. Only then could Wymack answer. 

“I’ll pay you for it.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Trust me,” Wymack said. Neil stopped, shoulders slumping. “I’ll talk to him. See you at the stadium tomorrow morning.”

With that, Wymack was on his feet. The waiter was coming over with their food, only to stop as Wymack took out the pay for the meal and set it on the table. “It’s all for him,” Wymack said, nodding to where Neil still sat. “You’ll need it.”

 

 

Suffice to say that Neil wasn’t _quite_ sure what he got himself into. So Andrew got into fights, but Neil was used to volatile people. Well, _used to_ wasn’t exactly the same as _could suffer through_ , now was it? That night Neil paced his campsite in a state of fervent worry. His jitters followed him to sleep, and into the early morning when he thrashed awake after a dream far too close to his memories. He clutched at his hair, one arm wrapped around his knees. The heat under his skin felt like it was melting his insides through his pores. Unwilling to sit still and fester, he stood and readied himself for a morning run. It was all he could do to keep his mind off of what training with Andrew might mean.

_This is your shot, though_ , his brain reminded him. _Who cares if it isn’t the easy route. Nothing’s been easy_.

Neil jogged to the stadium, and found his usual spot vacant. He climbed up to the flat surface of the broken pillar and waited as dawn stretched its golden arms across the sky, and faded from yellow to blue by the time anyone arrived through the stadium tunnels. 

He recognized Wymack from the dark inked lines on his upper arms and shoulders. Neil straightened, aware that Wymack’s eyes were trained on him. 

Wymack climbed the stadium steps and took a seat on the top bench in front of Neil. Neither of them spoke, not even when the first of the trainees arrived and started their routine of warming up. There were less than usual, and the dread churning in Neil’s chest told him why. 

Before long, they listened to the cracks of rocks splitting and disks being distributed for a scrimmage match. Neil watched as the trainees looked up to them once in a while, whispering amongst themselves about what their coach was doing. Neil lowered himself from his pedestal on the pillar, crouching down to sit in its shadows, out of sight from their prying eyes. 

Soon, it was midday.

“Did you talk to him?” Neil asked. He’d been watching Wymack’s back, and how his shoulders seemed to tense with each passing hour. He was hunched over with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. 

“I did. He would’ve been more pissed if I sprung it on him with no warning,” he said, voice low. Neil got the impression that he was speaking more to himself than to Neil. “I think I know where he might be.”

Wymack rose to his feet and walked along the flat outer ring around the top of the stadium. Neil scrambled to his feet and followed after him. They stopped at the northern edge, and Neil trailed his eyes out in the direction of Wymack’s extended hand, pointing towards the forked ravine off of the valley. 

Neil thanked him before hurrying off in that direction, leaving Wymack behind to return to his job. Neil leapt from the boulders outside of the stadium and landed on the flat, stone road stretched along the eastern side of the city. He ran along the shoulder of it, passing by people traveling along the road in vehicles. He leapt onto the stone hedge parallel the road to keep from being hit, staggering, before coming to a balanced stop on one foot, arms out.

He waved apologetically to the startled driver before carrying on his way, one foot in front of the other on the narrow surface. Eventually, he found himself on the north side of the city, leaping from the hedge and across the street. The forests stretched out beyond this point, and as he leapt from the hill, he grabbed for a tree branch and vaulted himself forward, landing at a sprint.

There was a trail that led into the ravine, unfinished and vacant. It soon condensed into a narrow passage between a split of mossy rocks. Given the dampness of the surface, Neil expected this place to be flooded in the spring when all of the snow melted on the mountaintops. He flattened his hands on the stone ledge that cut off the walkway and swung himself up one foot at a time.

Grunting with the effort, he heaved himself up the incline and rolled out onto a flat surface. Above him, the tall, pointed peaks stretched high, but with the sunlight passing through, he was washed over in its golden glow. He didn’t have time to bask in it, though, and soon, he was back to his feet.

He turned back to the path, only to stop at the sight of another person in the area. The area was flattened out, all except for the divot where a stream ran through. Neil’s feet touched the shallow slope where the riverbed would flood in the spring, but now, it was dry, and the area passible for humans. Tracks in the dust suggested that people came here often, and Neil came to the conclusion that it wasn’t _people_ , per se, but just Andrew.

Andrew stood on the far side of the creek, staring at him as he caught his breath. It took a moment for either of them to fully comprehend the fact that they were no longer alone.

“I’m not talking to you. Tell coach he can kiss my ass,” Andrew said. There was a towel in his hands, and he wrung it out over the creek before turning, snapping it to the side. He strode up to a flat column of red rock where a cloth bag sat, and the only reason Neil could see it was because he was walking closer to the river.

Realizing that Neil wasn’t leaving, Andrew cast him a glare over his shoulder and said, “That was your cue to leave.”

“I came here so you could teach me,” Neil said.

“I’m sure you did, but I don’t teach idiots,” Andrew said.

“Smart people don’t need to be taught.”

“So we’ve come to the conclusion that _I don’t fucking teach_ ,” he said. He stalked back to the river, and Neil have expected to get a welt from the towel wringing between Andrew’s hands. “Do yourself a favor and don’t trust a thing Wymack says.”

“About you, or about bending in general?” Neil said, arms crossed.

Andrew’s expression went flat, and given the irritation before, it was an alarming transition. Even neutral, Andrew managed to look judgmental. Neil didn’t expect anything less than judgement considering how little he really understood about earthbending, and his childhood tutors were nothing but demeaning. 

“I came here so you could—”

“And I told you to leave. Since you haven’t learned the art of that, you don’t make a very convincing case,” he said. 

“But you haven’t said no,” Neil said.

If he knew any better, he would have realized he crossed a line about five minutes ago when he rolled onto the riverbed. He guessed he was a slow learner, and it took until now for him to realize it.

The ground beneath him crunched, twisted, and jolted him back. The ground slid towards the edge of the riverbed, carrying him with it as he tripped and fell with a shriek. The floor beneath him kicked up and flung him off the edge, flipping into the grass at the bottom of the incline. He collapsed onto his back, head hitting the dirt with a heavy _thud_. 

Groaning, Neil pushed himself onto his elbows. He looked up at the top ledge, half expecting Andrew to be there, but there was no sight of him.

_Well, so much for that_ , he initially thought, but he went into this knowing Andrew would be difficult. It didn’t mean he had to stop now. 

He went for the ledge and heaved himself up on bruised elbows and a sore back.

Upon the end of his ascent, Neil raised his head and looked to where he last saw Andrew, across the creek. There was no sight of him. Frustrated, Neil shoved himself to his feet and turned to the west, along the edge of the cliff and the base that was worn away from the river. 

“Over here, idiot,” Andrew said from behind.

Neil turned and walked into a wall of rock instead.

He cursed, hand to his nose. The rock wall dropped. “ _Fuck_ ,” Neil swore. He pulled his hand away and saw a splotch of red between his fingers. He clenched his fist and looked over to meet Andrew’s eyes, but Andrew was already halfway to the river. 

Andrew scraped the sole of his shoe across the rock, thrusting a panel of stone out over the rushing creek in three tiers. He climbing the steps and walked over the river, and the moment his feet touched the opposite side, he split the bridge and collapsed it back into the riverbed. Neil’s hands trembled in frustration. He wouldn’t be here if he could manage even the simplest form of earthbending, but he hit _that_ wall a week ago after spending several days trying to recreate everything Wymack’s trainees did. 

“I’m not leaving here until you agree to teach me everything I need to know about earthbending!” Neil shouted over the current, fists clenched at his side. Andrew propped himself up on the column of stone, dropping back and letting his ankles cross in front of him. 

“And what makes you think I’ll say yes this time?” Andrew said.

Neil’s nose throbbed, and he tasted iron on his tongue. Andrew glared at him, and in the silence that followed, the sounds of the creek coursing rose up between them. Neil’s heart ached in his chest, pulsing like the blood collecting on his upper lip.

Andrew dropped one foot off of the column, and thus ended their silent debate.

“We’ll start tomorrow. Now get out of my sight,” he said, thumping the heel of his shoe against the surface. A spike jutted out from the edge of the river, staggering Neil back the way he came. He turned to glance back at Andrew, to reassure himself that he hadn’t misheard, and his hesitance only inched the spiker closer to his back. 

“Alright! Alright, I’m going,” Neil said, hurrying to the ledge. He dropped down one panel at a time before landing on the path between the cliffs. As he emerged into the forest, the ground shook beneath him, and a deafening clash sent him turning back around.

The entrance closed off, leaving nothing but a narrow crevice in the place of Andrew’s walkway.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in fandom in AGES but I flung myself to my computer the instant I saw [Aymmi's Avatar Au](http://aymmidumps.tumblr.com/) so *kicks leggy in the air* I hope ya like it.


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